Like Father, Like Son
by RoverGirl
Summary: Tom Metcalfe returns home from to work to find his son, Paul, wide awake. New Captain Scarlet universe.


Author Notes: This story was beta-read back in 2008 and has been been tweaked in 2014 without being seen by a beta-reader. Please R&R.

Originally written in early 2008, this is one of my earliest efforts with fan fiction and in particular with New Captain Scarlet.

'Like Father, Like Son' made it's online June 2008 debut on Spectrum Headquarters under my cosplay alias Intensity Angel and can still be found in the fan fiction section of that website. I was 16/17 at the time of writing.

Enjoy.

* * *

Tom Metcalfe smiled as he closed the front door behind him as quietly as humanly possible and locked it. He looked behind him just in case his wife came stomping down the stairs for the third time that week.

Tom had gotten lucky; nobody was there. He casually dropped his front door key on the table in the hallway and deposited his USAF jacket on the coat rail.

He stretched his vexed muscles and ruffled his dark hair with his hand almost carelessly, yawning as he did.

He looked at the clock and swore under his breath. His wife would kill him if he woke her up at THIS time in morning and she'd go absolutely ape if he had disturbed their two young children who were blissfully asleep in their beds dreaming of fighter planes and horse riding.

Lucky thing that Tom had decided to take his motorbike to work that day and not the 4x4 he'd recently brought.

As he peeled off his upper uniform and flung it on the floor Tom soundlessly plodded into the kitchen when he heard the tiniest of sounds on the stairs; only the sounds that an accustomed father would hear. He doubled back on himself de-sticking his T-shirt that clung to his toned lithe body as he did. The ride back home had been a breeze but it was very humid night and the stopping at every traffic light as each one had been a glaring scarlet on his way between work and home had allowed Tom to build up a strong sweat.

He let out a yawn and looked up the stairs to find the origin point of the tiny noise he had heard.

Upon finding it, he stood there, arms crossed, smiling his mock stern face at the sight that became apparent to him; a young figure clad in navy blue and red pyjamas that had space shuttles and stars all over them was watching him intently.

"Paul, where are you supposed to be?" he asked his young eight year son who was presently hanging onto the stair rail looking down at his father with a sparkle of delight in his sapphire blue eyes that he'd inherited from his mother.

"I heard you pull up, Daddy, you were too loud," he whispered in such a quiet voice his father only just heard him.

Tom smiled at him before crouching down so he would easily be at his eye level when Paul came down. He beamed at his son who smiled back and Tom gestured for him to come down which Paul did with he greatest delight. He scuttled down the stairs with impressive speed and swiftness yet he managed to avoid breaking silence...however his mother had obviously heard him…

"Paul, go back to sleep, it's too early," Ann Metcalfe warned.

"Only me, Ann," replied Tom as Paul rushed into his father's waiting arms.

"Well, keep it down, Paul's already woke up enough times tonight," muttered Ann.

"Will do, love," Tom responded as he picked up his dark-haired son and held him close as Paul threw his arms around his neck and nuzzled into him.

"Paul," he said in a quiet stern voice as he heard his wife bark orders at their young daughter who then complained that she was just getting a glass of water.

Paul just smiled his innocent smile, slightly giggling and Tom couldn't do anything but allow his heart to melt with adoration. He again held his son close and rubbed his back hearing his little heart beating like crazy.

"C'mon little man, lets go into the kitchen and then you're going to back to bed," Tom told his son as he carried him into the kitchen of the large house that Tom and Ann Metcalfe owned.

"Awww, Dad, I wanna be with you, and it is the weekend now," protested the little lad gripping his father tighter.

"But you're too young to be up at this hour," his father informed powerfully as the boy tried to worm his way out of going to bed with innocent looks. "Maybe when you're older and have a girlfriend."

"But I DO have a girlfriend," objected Paul mimicking a frown his mother had almost trademarked.

"Yes, I know about that. Little Sophie is a nice girl but you just watch what happens, little man, it leads to all sorts of problems," Tom told him, chuckling as his son struck a defensive face.

"Tom! Carrie's trying to sleep, and I hope you haven't woken Paul up," Ann could be heard saying from upstairs crossly.

"No, honey, can't hear anything, guess Paul is tucked up in bed sleeping and dreaming of a thousand fun missions,"

"He better be," warned Ann as Paul sniggered at his mother's tone.

Tom swiftly covered his son's mouth to prevent him from escalating and getting them both in deep trouble…again!

"Mommy's funny," Paul stated and then he pouted.

"Will I ever get married to Sophie?" he asked his father as Tom put him down on a stool and proceeded to raid the biscuit tin.

"Maybe Paul, maybe if you're really lucky," Tom told his son as he nicked a biscuit and winked at his son who sniggered at him and pointed at fruit basket, indicating to his father what he should be eating instead of the chocolate biscuits.

Paul wiggled his blue and red slipper-bound feet as Tom finished his raid on the biscuit tin. He then picked up his son and carried him into the living room.

"Noise. Tom, don't make me come down there."

"That woman, can a guy get some peace after a busy day? Never!" muttered Tom under his breath so his son wouldn't hear him.

"Like you, Dad?" asked Paul as his father sat down and allowed him to snuggle up to his chest.

"What? Am I lucky?" Tom asked his young son in surprise. He'd forgotten the conversation he'd been having with him for a second, and quickly got back on track.

"Of course you are, Dad, you've got Mommy, you have a brilliant job and do really cool stuff at work and you've got me and Carrie," beamed the youngster.

"Oh no," said Tom rolling his eyes. "Not my two little nightmares!"

Paul hit him with a cushion which Tom easily blocked and quickly grabbed his son and placed him in a secure lock to prevent him from escaping.

"Of course I'm lucky Paul, where would I be without you and Carrie in my life?"

"Still with Mommy and with the Air Force shooting the enemy down!" squeaked Paul as Tom let him escape and Paul started shooting imaginary targets with a fantasy fighter craft. Tom quietly laughed at this before sighing and noticing the time.

"Tom, I mean it," growled Ann Metcalfe from upstairs.

"Whoa! Time flies! Paul, bed!" he ordered.

"Why?" asked Paul ducking out of view.

"Because Mommy will kill me if she found I've let you stay up when you should be sleeping,"

"Awww, Dad, please, a little longer, please?"

"Nope, not working this time, buster," smirked Tom as Paul jumped onto his lap trying to act innocent like a cute little puppy. "Tell you what Paul, we'll compromise on this."

"I'm listening," Paul told him, even through he didn't fully understand what his father had said and wasn't paying full attention anyway.

"You go to bed now and go to sleep and I'll take you and Carrie out somewhere tomorrow, okay?"

"But you're working tomorrow," scowled Paul crossing his arm distraughtly.

"No, I'm not, Paul, I've got the day off, which means…"

"We can go out and…"

"Shhh, your mother thinks you're sleeping," said Tom trying to calm down his son who was quickly becoming excited.

"Don't make me come down there, pilot!" Ann warned.

Tom rolled his eyes before looking at his son who showed signs of tiredness in his blue eyes. Just as well Tom thought to himself as he knew what would happen if Ann came down and started giving orders.

It was like having a top class General in the household! And Tom was positive Ann hadn't forgiven him after he locked her in the garden shed last summer and she'd go ballistic if she saw Paul up.

"Agreed?" whispered Tom as his son snuggled up to him.

"Yes," came the quiet reply.

"Okay then, first bed and then play later," replied Tom as he picked up his young son and gripped him tightly, allowing his head to droop onto his USAF T-shirt.

Carefully, Tom Metcalfe carried his boy of eight up to his bedroom.

As he opened the door, he took note on how the luminous stars twinkled on the ceiling above the various space shuttles and fighter planes that cluttered the blue starry ceiling.

Paul's bed showed signs of a kid too alert to sleep and the bed cover was on the floor in a heap surrounded by lots of toys including various space shuttles and cars. Somehow Tom avoided the various toys that littered his son's floor, managing not step on any and break them. It didn't matter if he broke his neck or not; Paul had one blazing temper that was a force to be reckoned with if his toys got broken!

Tom mused on this thought; he was exactly the same as Paul when he was a young boy and he remembered the scowling he used to get off his father, Paul's Grandpa Frank, when his room was a mess. Ann had given up trying to keep Paul's room tidy and knew that even if she did tidy it up, Paul would ensure it was a mess an hour later.

"Like father, like son," thought Tom.

After avoiding tripping over, Tom urged his young boy onto his bare bed and retrieved the duvet cover. He quickly and quietly knocked off the toys that littered the bed and while he was at it, pinched his son's toes making the youngster giggle. Paul offered no resistance but proceeded to bury himself under the cover and disappear from view as soon as his father put the cover over him. Tom quickly found him and tutted as he tried to keep his squirming son still long enough for him to tuck him in.

"There," said Tom triumphantly as he ruffled Paul's pillows up and watched as the giggling monster finally calmed down again.

"Night, Dad," he said in his innocent voice burying under the sheets again.

"Goodnight, son," whispered Tom as he planted a kiss on his son's forehead and watched as he drifted out into the world of dreams where little boys could go to space and beyond…

END OF TRANSMISSION.


End file.
